


Chicken Soup and Broken Glass

by RandomestFandoms



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Best Friends, Caring, Caring Thomas, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Happy, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Newt's parents suck, Sick Newt, Sickfic, Thomas takes care of Newt, almost brothers, babying, non romantic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomestFandoms/pseuds/RandomestFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt gets sick and Thomas takes care of him<br/>Can be read as Newtmas but I didn't write it as Newtmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken Soup and Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the Maze runner etc.

                “Hey dude!” Thomas yelled, after letting himself in Newt’s house, using the key that they hid under the front mat.  When he didn’t hear a reply, he climbed up the stairs, “Newt, are you okay?”

                He pushed open his friend’s door, but stopped when he saw his best friend curled up on his bed, buried under a pile of blankets, “Newt?”

                “Tommy?” Newt peeked his head out from under the blankets, sounding close to tears and drenched in sweat.

                “You’re not looking too good,” Thomas said softly.

                “Sorry, this kind of ruins our plans.  You can leave,” Newt said.

                “No way, your parents are away for the rest of the weekend and next week.  You are not staying here alone while you’re like this.  I’ll just grab the first aid stuff and take your temperature, then we can go from there,” Thomas said, already making a metal list of things he would need to pick up at some point.

                Newt nodded, visibly wincing when he did, and Thomas sprinted to the bathroom, grabbing the big box of first aid supplies from the cupboard under the sink, and sprinted back to the bedroom.

                “Hey Newt, think you can sit up for me?  I need to take your temperature.”  He wrapped his arm around Newt’s back, helping him sit up.  He sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled Newt against his chest to keep him upright.  “You okay for me to put this in your ear?”

                Newt nodded, wincing again, and Thomas rotated them quickly so that he could reach to put the thermometer in his ear, pulling it out when it beeped.  “Shit dude, 102.4, that’s pretty bad.  Let’s get you into the bathroom, I’ll remake your bed with fresh sheets, and then we can get you cleaned up.  Sounds good?”

                “I’m cold,” Newt whispered.

                “I know you are, but you’re burning up and we need to cool you down first.  Please?”  Newt made a small sound of agreement, letting Thomas pull him up.  When it became obvious that Newt couldn’t stand up, Thomas picked him up and carried him to the bathroom, helping him sit on the toilet.

                “Are you okay with me helping you?” Thomas asked carefully.

                “Yeah…  I’ll probably drown otherwise,” Newt said quietly.

                “Alright.  I’ll start filling it up now, and then remake your bed.  If it starts overflowing, yell for me?”  He checked that the water temperature wasn’t too cold, but wasn’t warm, and then grabbed fresh sheets and remade Newt’s bed.  He got rid of all of the extra blankets and tossed the sweat-soaked sheets into the wash. 

                “Ready?” He asked Newt once he was back in the bathroom and had checked that the water was an okay temperature.

                “I guess, yeah.”  He pulled his own shirt off, and tried not to fidget when Thomas pulled off the rest of his clothes, and his own shirt.

                “I’m pretty sure that your shirt can stay on?”

                “It’ll probably get wet.  This okay?” Newt shrugged, letting himself be moved into the tub.  He closed his eyes while Thomas washed his hair and then opened them to try staying awake while he washed the rest of his body.

                “Alright Newt, ready to get out?”

                “I don’t have clothes though…”

                “How about just boxers?  If you’re going back into bed then you shouldn’t have a bunch of layers on anyway.”  Newt nodded softly, his neck hurting a bit less after the bath.

                Thomas helped him get out and dressed, and was happy to notice that Newt was a bit more stable walking, but still needed support to stay upright.  With only a bit of difficulty, they managed to get Newt back into bed.

                “Alright Newtie, think you can get some sleep?  I’m going to run over to the store and grab a few things.  Anything you want?”

                “Chicken-“

                “Chicken noodle soup, Liptons?  Already planning on that.”

                “Then maybe just some Halls?”

                “I can do that,” Thomas agreed, “anything before I go?”

                “No, I don’t think so…”

                “Well, I’ll grab you some water and some Tylenol anyways, okay?  And I’ll take your temperature again.”  Newt nodded agreeably, so Thomas checked his temperature again, glad to notice that he was down to 100.8.  He went to the kitchen to get a plastic cup and fill it up, before heading back to Newt’s room and grabbing two Tylenol tablets.  He set everything down on the bedside table, “finish all of this while I’m out, alright?” He pressed a soft kiss to Newt’s forehead before he headed out.

                Soon he was standing in the grocery store, pushing a cart.  He went through his mental list, he had the apple juice that was the only thing Newt would willingly drink, his favourite chicken soup brand, saltine crackers, and a new stuffed animal.  Newt may have never had a fever like this, but he was the one who took care of Newt after he had his appendix out, and after his release from the hospital.  He was standing in the pharmacy aisle, trying to decide on a flavour of Halls, and which pills would be best for lowering his fever and stoping the muscle pains, when a woman walked over to him.

                “Sick girlfriend?” She asked.

                “My best friend.  He’s like a brother to me and he’s got a bad fever,” Thomas explained, picking up another box of pills to read the back.

                “New for you?”

                “Yeah…  I’ve taken care of him before, like when he had surgery and when he broke his leg, but never something like this.  I managed to get his fever down by almost two degrees, but I’ve never really gotten sick, so I don’t know what to do.”

                “Have you asked his parents for advice?”

                “They’re away, again.  I don’t think they’ve ever been around for more than a couple of weeks at a time since they moved here.  Every time that he’s been in the hospital, my parents have had to get permission to do everything, and then I would take care of him…””

                “Well then, you’ll want these.  My son takes them every time he gets sick.  They help with fevers and muscle pain, and make it easier to sleep,” she told him, handing him a box of pills and putting a box in her basket too, “that’s what I was here for.”

                “Thank you!  I’m sorry, I really need to go, I don’t want to leave him alone for too long,” Thomas rushed to the cash register to pay, and practically sprinted the two blocks back to Newt’s.  As soon as he got there, he put the juice in the fridge to chill, and went upstairs to check on Newt.  He noticed that Newt was asleep, but his eyes were fluttering the way they always did when he was waking up. 

                “Newt?”  He asked softly, grabbing the thermometer.

                “Tommy?”

                “Yeah, it’s me.  Let’s take your temperature and then get you fed, alright?”

                Newt sighed, but let Thomas put the thermometer in his ear again.

                “It hasn’t changed.  I think that after we get some food in you, you should take the new meds and have another cold bath, does that sound okay?”

                “Sure, whatever.”  Thomas recognized the eye roll, which was the part of Newt being sick that was the worst for everyone.  He was coherent enough to realize that he was in pain, and to be frustrated by his needing help, but he was still sick enough that he really did need help.

                “Alright, do you want to put some more clothes on?”  Newt nodded in annoyance, letting Thomas get a t-shirt and his lightest pair of pyjama pants onto him, before helping him downstairs.  He winced lightly on the second step, having landed on his ankle painfully, and Thomas picked him back up.

                “Really?” he asked angrily, “I can still walk.”

                “But if you push yourself then later it’ll be worse.”  Thomas managed to get him downstairs with only a little bit more complaining, and set him down on one of the bar stools, “juice, soup, and crackers?” he asked, getting out a pot.  Newt nodded, seeming less annoyed.

                “Here ya go.  It’s not cold yet, so do you want an ice cube?” Newt nodded again, and Thomas passed him a large cup of apple juice, with two ice cubes.  They were relatively silent for the next ten minutes while Thomas cooked, and soon they each had a bowl of soup, and had a full plate of saltines between them.

                “Need anything else?” He asked, passing Newt a spoon.

                “I’m fine,” Newt said bluntly, sound equal parts exhausted and angry.

                “Alright.  Once you’re done eating, you can take a pill and have another bath, sound good?”

                “Sure, whatever,” he shrugged, eating his soup.  He finished his soup, ate a few more crackers to appease Thomas, and was trying to put his bowl in the sink when he lost his balance and dropped it.  It smashed, and he fell, landing in the broken shards.

                “Newt!”  Thomas was crouching down in seconds, lifting Newt carefully and bringing him upstairs to the bathroom, setting him on the toilet.  He went back downstairs and picked up the large pieces of glass, sweeping the smaller shards and throwing them all out.  He grabbed the first aid kit from Newt’s bedroom and went back to the bathroom.  He took a washcloth and wet it lightly, before washing the blood off of Newt’s hands.  When he saw that there were a few shards in his right palm, he winced sympathetically, grabbing the tweezers. 

                “Sorry bud… this is going to sting,” he took his hand gently, trying his best to be as careful as possible. 

                “’m not a kid,” Newt argued.

                “Hm?” Thomas asked.  He had been so focused on taking care of the cuts that he didn’t even realize that Newt was talking.

                “I’m not a bloody kid, stop treating me like one.”

                “Dude, have you seen yourself?  You’re completely covered in blood,” Thomas pointed out, used to Newt’s protests, “please let me take care of you.”

                “Fine…” Newt sighed.

                “Alright, ready to take your pants off?  This might hurt if they’re stuck to the blood,” Newt nodded, leaning his weight on the counter so that Thomas could make sure that his pants weren’t stuck to any blood.  With only a small amount of pain, they managed to get them off, and seeing all of the small cuts had Thomas getting straight to work.

                “Bath?’ He asked after he had cleaned and bandaged the cuts, “we’ll have to redo the bandages after.”  Newt nodded passively, letting himself be placed into the bath, briefly wondering when Thomas had filled it.

                Unlike the first bath, this one was clearly more for relaxation and cooling off than the first one, which was very much for getting rid of the sweat.  When Thomas noticed that Newt was almost asleep, he picked him up and dried him off, bringing him back to his room and getting him into new clothes.  He tucked him into bed and went downstairs to grab him a glass of juice, and settled down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through the soft blond hair.

                “Tommy?” Newt asked softly.

                “Yeah?”

                “Thanks,” he whispered, before closing his eyes to try to sleep.


End file.
